Laura
by Danzinora Switch
Summary: Snapshots and scenes through the years of Laura's life; mainly focusing on her relationship with Clint. Two-shot. Rated T for language and a few darker themes.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I ship Clint/Laura so hard! As such, this focuses on Laura, and mainly her relationship with Clint, through the years. Hopefully this adds some dynamics to her character and isn't too OOC for everyone else. :) Enjoy!**

* * *

"I am never going to be tied down," she swore.

Beside her, Lila laughed. "Suuure, you're not. Here's to the independent woman!" she raised her glass.

"I'm serious," Laura reciprocated. "I don't need a man in my life. I've gotten this far without one. I got into University of freaking New York with no one's help but mine."

Lila rolled her eyes. "And that's _so far_ in life."

She smacked her friend in the arm. "It is. I've been doing just great."

"Says the virgin drinking a virgin," Lila slipped, eyeing Laura's drink.

"Better than a slut drinking another slut," Laura muttered. "Although not as hot."

Lila spewed her martini across the table. She hacked and gasped for a few seconds more before finally choking out "I swear, you say the _weirdest_ things sometimes!"

Laura shrugged, pretending not to care, but inwardly pleased at her friend's reaction. Yes, there _were_ occasions were her brain-to-mouth filter malfunctioned.

They cleaned up the mess at the table, and eventually made their way back on campus. She had classes the next morning, and was determined to stay awake for them, even if it meant chugging coffee in the morning and going straight to sleep the night before. She scattered her notebooks and paintings around the room, deleted a message from her mother before listening to it (that ungrateful hag) and dug up some Ramen noodles.

Such was life.

Seriously, though. She didn't need anybody. The people you were supposed to start out with love didn't love her back, and she realized very quickly that 'love and compassion' was just a sick joke. One of the most satisfying moments in her life was finally leaving home and flipping the bird to it as she walked away.

Besides, she didn't even have time for love. Lila would be the first to tell anyone how independent Laura was. She was determined to go places. She loved staying busy, whether it was with homework, a part-time job, painting, physical work, or taking care of friends (why did all her friends like to drink when she didn't?) Laura was going to be a college professor in the future, and no _man_ was going to stop her.

And it was true- no man stopped her.

But one man did encourage her.

* * *

He was actually pretty shy.

She had no idea what he was doing at the block party, but then again she didn't know what she was doing, either. Lila had dragged her along to an event, yet again, and she was already bored of raucous scene.

Yet he looked almost- out of place. He stayed in a corner sipping his water almost the whole time, and nothing moved but his eyes. A slightly pained expression was on his face, though she couldn't tell if that was from the music or his casted arm.

To this day, she doesn't really know what compelled her to walk over and talk with the stranger.

She leaned against the wall next to him with her own water. "You look like you're about to start climbing the walls."

He startled and turned to her. "I'd already be up in the ceiling if I wanted to," he answered.

She smirked, thinking he was making a joke. "How'd you hurt your arm?"

He blinked at her question. "I fell out of a different ceiling."

Now she crooked an eyebrow at him. "Not much for floors, huh?"

He startled them both with a sudden laugh. He cut if off quickly, as if surprised that he had slipped up.

"I'm Laura," she said. "What's your name?"

"I… Clint." He blinked again, still looking surprised at himself.

"Well, Clint," she stated. "I think there's a dartboard in the back room- want to square off a few rounds?"

He eyed her shrewdly, as if trying to assess if this was some kind of pickup line. She rolled her eyes. "I'm a very literal person."

Clint relaxed a tiny bit, and found himself agreeing. "Lead the way."

Sure enough, there _was_ a dartboard in the back room. It wasn't much, but it was something to do. Laura had sharp eyes and pretty good hand-eye coordination (you had to, to be an artist) but she found herself challenged by Clint's. He could toss two, three, four at a time and still have them all hit the bulls-eye. The game turned into a friendly competition between them, and they eventually stopped aiming for the bulls-eye and instead made pictures with the darts, taking turns adding to the image. They made a smiley face, a triangle, a car (which turned out more like a soggy box) and a tree.

They actually had a good time.

As the party wound down, and Lila came searching for her, Laura shyly asked if she could sign Clint's cast.

When she did, she left her phone number next to her name.

* * *

"Laura's got a booooyfriend-"

"I do not!"

"Laura's got a boooyfriend-"

"Quit it!"

"She's finally caught a _maaaan_ -!"

Laura smacked her. Lila just laughed.

"He's a great friend. He's really nice, and sweet, and stoic in his own way. But we aren't dating!"

" _Yet_ ," Lila wiggled her eyebrows.

Laura groaned.

"So, c'mon, seriously! What makes him so different? Is he hot? I can't wait to meet him. He's meeting you here, right?"

Laura rolled her eyes and sipped her coffee, discreetly using the motion to glance around the café. Her sharp eyes caught the door opening in a reflection, and Clint walked in. She smoothed down her countenance. "Here he comes."

"Hey, Laura. So, you must be Lila?"

Lila replied by dropping her jaw open. Clint shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Laura.

"Don't mind her," she waved off. "She's a weirdo."

Clint nodded, taking her word for it. "I'm, ah, going to grab a quick coffee from the counter," he managed, seeing their drinks. Laura smiled and waved him on.

"Oh my God," Lila breathed as Clint headed for the register. "He's _so_ freaking adorkable!"

"No, he's not, I think you're just wigging him out," she rebutted.

"And he's _sexy!_ " Lila gasped, completely unheeding her words. "Oh my gosh, do you see his arms? And face? And-"

"Lila, _shut up_ ," she hissed.

"You two are so _cute_ together!"

Laura fell out of her seat. At the register, Clint turned around, but seemed to know that it was part of friendship goofiness, and so didn't run to help.

She was _really_ beginning to like him.

* * *

When Clint was home, he was over a lot. She'd finally given him the key to her off-campus apartment, though sometimes felt that he didn't need it. She wasn't really sure where he lived, though. What was weird was that there were long stretches when he was gone, and when he came back he often had several bruises and/or a cast.

"I'm with the military," he explained once as she drew elaborate designs on another cast. "Not a soldier, but I get deployed around a lot more often for shorter periods of time. Make sense?"

She nodded absently and concentrated on her drawing.

He always listened to her. Laura knew she would excited about pretty much anything, but the first time she ever noticed he was a bit uncomfortable was when she was prattling on about teaching.

"I'm so excited! I'm _this_ close to getting my masters, I can feel it! And then I can start a teaching internship anywhere I want! A year ago I dead-set focused on college, but I'm thinking now I should start with some younger kids, since I'm still pretty young myself. I don't want middle school, but maybe elementary or high school? Ugh, I hated middle school. I really don't want to go through that again, you know what I mean?"

He looked up and his eyes clouded. She picked up instantly on the guard. "What's wrong?"

He shrugged, trying to pass it off as nothing. But Laura was a sharp gal. She found her voice as she realized the truth. "You didn't really go to school, did you?" she broke softly.

Clint shrugged again. "Not much school could do for someone like me, anyway, you know?"

Laura crossed her arms and a mischievous grin spread over her face. "I'll bet you've got a near-genius IQ," she said.

Clint shook his head. "Nah, _you're_ the college student-"

"I bet 50 bucks you have a near-genius IQ."

A grin finally broke on his own face. "Deal."

They took a test, and both scored in the upper 130's.

* * *

When Laura got the news, she didn't know what to think of it.

At first she just stared at the paper in shock. Then she clenched it in anger. She was torn between ripping it in two and throwing it against the wall.

She ignored the phone the entire day.

It was already well into the evening when Laura picked up the bottle of wine Lila had given her two years ago as a gag gift.

Clint entered the apartment right as she hurled it against the wall.

He didn't say anything, but watched her as she stood in the middle of the room, fists clenched, trembling.

"He's dead," she said curtly. "That stupid son-of-a-bitch is dead and I don't-" she broke off and swallowed. "I _don't_ care."

Clint's eyes flicked to the obituary in the paper. He looked back at her, unassuming, _understanding_.

She sucked in an unsteady breath and continued to flex her fists. "They call it 'natural causes'. Cirrhosis, 'perfectly natural'. Nobody can just say that he did in his blood and liver with all that-" she scrubbed her eyes harshly. " _Fucking_ drinking."

Clint stayed silent.

"And to think that it's all over!" she snapped. She was shaking violently now. "That everything he's responsible for, everything he, he…" her voice cracked.

She turned and ran onto the balcony, gulping in the night air. Clint reappeared beside her, going so far as to sit on the concrete ledge with her, legs dangling over the side. The city bustled below, despite the darkness. A few stars shone through, despite the light pollution.

"Sometimes," Clint said softly, staring out over the rooftops. "Life's shit just sucks."

His words carried a weight with them, one that she _knew_ only came from experience. They looked at each other, finding that unspoken link, and finding that _someone else knew what it was like_.

It didn't turn into a make-out session. Instead they gripped each other and cried together. They sat on the balcony and wept silently for the world, for fathers, and watched as the stars blended with the city lights.

* * *

Their trust and assurance in each other grew. Laura could even say she was happy. She graduated with her masters in Childhood Education and Foreign Language. Clint was deployed for the ceremony, and he expressed before leaving how deeply he wanted to be there for her.

She didn't hold it against him. Laura had never wanted somebody holding her back in her career, and she wasn't going to play the clingy girlfriend and hold Clint back in his.

When he returned, however, he seemed anxious.

Laura could count on one hand the number of times she'd seen Clint nervous- the man was as calm as a steel trap. But when he came back he paced around her apartment, clearly in a twist about something.

"Clint, you've got to tell me what's going on," she said directly, cutting around the bull.

He glanced up at her sharply. "You trust me?"

She blinked. "Of course I do. You know that."

He paced harder. His shoulders fell. "You always listen, Laura. You always listen and trust me."

"Well, you listen to me, so I think it's only fair," she replied steadily. He was starting to get her worried.

Clint seemed to reach a decision and guided her to the sofa, sitting down beside her. "I… I don't trust easily," he admitted. "It's not just from my past; it comes with the job."

"The military?" she mentioned. Laura was very perceptive, and knew she hit the nail on the head when he winced.

"I'm… this is very classified, Laura," he said seriously, his whole tone changing. She sat up straighter.

"I'm not exactly with the military. I'm with a government agency known as SHIELD- you've probably never heard of it. It deals with the top secret, end-of-the-world, science and magic type of stuff."

"So you're a spy," she deduced.

"I'm an assassin."

The words were spoken softly, and Clint seemed- afraid?- of her reaction.

"Well, I'm not exactly a damsel in distress," she said, sliding her arms around him. "But it's good to know if there ever is trouble that I've got a world-class assassin on my side."

He seemed startled by her response, but also relieved.

That time did turn into a make-out session.

* * *

The first time she met Natasha Romanoff it was so ordinary it was unbelievable.

Laura had heard of the lady a few times from Clint, and knew that the man held her in high regard. She'd never been sure what to make of their relationship, though, at least until Clint introduced her.

She'd just gotten back from the high school, and was cleaning the apartment in anticipation for visitors. When Clint's knock sounded the door she smoothed down her hair and her countenance and let them in.

Her first thought was _oh, she's a redhead_.

Natasha was in normal jeans, shirt, and jacket. She had the look of a supermodel played down to a rough, worn tomboy. It was stylish in an almost careless way. Clint didn't seem to notice any of it, though, as he greeted Laura with a kiss.

"Laura, this is Natasha, whom I've told you about. Nat, this is Laura."

"Hey," Laura greeted, extending a hand. Natasha shook it, and her grip was unusually strong.

Clint shifted. "If you ladies want to get comfortable, I'll go grab everyone some sodas." He retreated to the kitchen.

Laura invited Natasha further inside, unsure what else to do, exactly. "So, you work with Clint?" she began, drifting towards the sofa.

"I do," Natasha replied. She had a very smooth voice, and a cool serenity about her. "We've gone on a lot of missions together."

Laura nodded. "I won't press you for details."

She could tell that Natasha purposefully didn't react. It suddenly struck her that the woman in front of her had no idea what to do any more than she did.

Clint returned with the sodas, apparently knowing everyone's favorite. "Feel free to sit down, gals, and I'll grab some snacks. Nuts okay?"

They agree and sat down on the couch as he returned to the kitchen. Natasha looked at her, halfway amused. "Isn't this your apartment?"

Laura smiled, her eyes flicking over to Clint. "Yes, but he's helped me with the rent before, and it's basically his second home." She popped open her can of Sprite and sipped, contentedly watching Clint.

Natasha watched her, and a soft ghost-smile touched her lips. Laura noticed it. "What?"

"I've known Agent Barton for a long time," she said smoothly, and Laura didn't miss the use of his last name. "It's a very high-risk, stressful job, and we've been through a number of ups, downs, and life-threatening situations." Natasha looked smoothly over her shoulder even though it was disguised has her casually flipping her hair. She leaned forward towards Laura.

"And I have _never_ seen him this relaxed. Ever."

Laura blinked and looked at Clint, who seemed so _normal_ as he poured a variety of nuts into a bowl. _My boyfriend assassin is making trail-mix in my kitchen._

Natasha's gaze softened. "He really likes you," she said. "And though I don't know you personally, I know you're good for him." She sipped some of her own soda. "That's all I care about."

"Thanks," Laura replied. They shared a look over their cans before Laura's brows furrowed. "Personally? So you do know me."

Natasha shrugged and continued to look unashamedly sneaky. Laura decided it wasn't too bad that Clint's partner had done a background check on her, and that Natasha was also looking out for him; just in a different way.

They were going to be great friends.

* * *

"Seriously?" Laura dug through her purse. "That was the third one!"

Clint shifted sheepishly. "I said I was sorry."

She just rolled her eyes, playing off like she was annoyed. Really, she was quite amused. Most girlfriends struggled with their boyfriends losing things they gave them.

But eating her own pictures?

"Okay, here's one. It's from last year, so it's a little dated…" she made a face at her hairstyle in the photo. God, why did she ever think that looked good?

Clint accepted the picture and delicately folded it into his breast pocket. "This one will last longer, I promise."

"Mm-hm," she said. "Have you ever considered just leaving the pictures behind on missions? That way you don't have to eat them when you're caught?"

Clint looked sheepish and horrified at the same time. "Yes ma'am, but it's, I mean, it's, it's _you_ and I just-"

She stopped him with a kiss. "I know," she told him, smiling.

It was strangely romantic that her boyfriend would eat photos of her just so that a bad guy would never learn of her and come after them.

* * *

Laura fumbled with her covers as she tried to reach the ringing phone. It rang on and on, and "Blast it- damn- h'llo?" she groused. Her other hand reached up and scrubbed her face. It was too early in the morning for this. No, it was the middle of the night. She found her alarm clock and saw that it read 2:30 A.M.

"La-" there was a jumble of voices from the other end. Finally, one surfaced above the rest, apparently having gotten hold of the phone. "Laura, it's Natasha," came the tight voice.

"Nat?" she said, confused. "What's wrong?" Her heart started pounding as her thoughts immediately went to Clint. He'd been on a mission for the past three weeks. Had something happened?

"It's Clint," she said curtly. "He's back, but he's in bad shape. We've got him in the hospital ward, but he's not- he keeps asking for you. Already tried to break out twice to go get you."

"Oh my God," she whispered.

"Coulson and I will be at your place in five minutes." The line clicked off.

Laura stayed frozen on the bed for a moment. Then her brain kicked into action and launched out of the sheets. She was dressed just in time for the knock on her door.

She'd never met Phil Coulson before, but Clint talked about him a few times. She was aware that he was his handler. He seemed nice, but grave, and she was glad Natasha was there. Nobody spoke more than a few words, and they were in a dark car flying through New York.

Literally _flying_.

Laura didn't really care about any of it, only having thoughts for Clint. She was pretty sure that was also why Coulson and Natasha didn't put a bag over her head. The 'New York office' as they called it looked surprisingly normal, but she knew it was just so SHIELD could maintain its cover.

Inside was a completely different story.

They passed workers, agents, and suits, all bustling about despite the time of night. The trio stayed mostly silent as they made their way to the hospital ward.

A doctor greeted them outside a door. "He seemed to settle down some after your promise, Phil," he began without preamble. "Is this Laura?"

"I am," she answered for herself.

"Good. I'm Dr. Langston. Agent Barton returned from a desert assignment roughly five hours ago, after being declared MIA for five days. We're still working on his injuries and malnutrition, and his stubbornness hasn't been helping."

"I'll calm him down," she said firmly.

"I'm sure of that. Just, be prepared for what you see. It's not a very pretty sight. Also, we've got him on heavy painkillers and other 'happy' drugs, so he may not be very lucid right now."

She nodded sharply. "Understood."

Okay, so she _wasn't_ prepared to see Clint stretched out on a hospital bed with tubes and wires sticking out of him. He looked pale and thin, and the bruises on his exposed skin stood out sharply against the white color scheme.

She swallowed the hard lump in her throat. "Clint?"

His head turned. "Heeeeeeey, Laura," he greeted, a grin catching his mouth. He swung out his arm towards her though it hung limply off the edge. "You're more beautifuller than any… today. Llllookin' _fine_ …"

Laura blushed and hoped that that sound she made came off as a laugh instead of a sob. "You're pretty doped up right now," she said, moving closer.

"Mmm," he hummed. He continued he unabashed staring.

"How are you doing?" she said carefully.

It was a long moment before he answered. "'m good. Goodner than I was- Doc McStuffins wouldn't let me out-" he waved towards the general vicinity of Dr. Langston.

This time she did laugh some. "Well, are you behaving for the doctors, Clint?" she said.

Clint didn't answer and just continued to stare at her. "I want to marry you," he said suddenly. "Do you want to marry me?" The second part was a bit more timid.

Laura gaped and flushed. "I, I'm not, are you asking me to marry you?"

Clint took a while to work through her question. "Yes?"

She blinked and grappled again. "I- I'd have to be sure it's not just the drugs talking, you're pretty out of it and I don't want this to just be a-" but Clint had dropped off to dreamland in the next moment.

Laura stayed by his side over the next several days, only breaking when Nat or Coulson took her to the cafeteria or told her to get some sleep. Clint slept most of the time as he healed, slowly regaining his strength. When he did awake, and stayed conscious and lucid, Natasha was on rotation.

"Laura?" he croaked.

Natasha looked at him bemusedly. "Has been ordered by Phil to get some rest. She's hardly left your side."

He nodded, accepting her statement and stared up at the ceiling. His eyes caught Nat's lingering smug look. He groaned. "Oh, God, what'd I say?"

"Oh, nothing too bad," she returned her attention to her magazine. "You just proposed to Laura."

Clint flailed wildly in shock. "I did? Shit! I need to go buy a ring!" He flustered frantically, trying to get up.

Natasha's deep chuckles carried out of the room.

Clint did propose later, on the balcony in Laura's apartment, with a ring and everything. However, they continue to maintain different stories on the matter. Clint insists that his proposal on the balcony was 'the real one', as it were, while Laura always considered his hospital stay as the official time that he popped the question.

Either way, the end result was the same.

* * *

 **More to come! Stay tuned! Reviews are loved! Thanks, guys! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Final chapter! Thanks for the reviews, guys! This has some more fluffier moments, but should hopefully still be dynamic. Thanks! Also, I haven't actually seen The Winter Soldier, so I hope my research is accurate. I own nothing!**

 **Clint/Laura. Ship it? I sail!**

* * *

"This is the most boring bachelorette party, ever!" Lila declared loudly.

Laura shrugged. She'd been fine with whatever, with the only rules being no strippers and no alcohol. Lila had found a way to smuggle in some booze, and was getting uproariously drunk and complaining about the lack of dudes.

So she'd called her ex-boyfriend over.

Derek, or Drake, or whatever his name was, was an asshole. Laura really didn't like him, but Lila seemed to perk up once he was there. She rolled her eyes and continued chatting with her coworkers and casual friends. Natasha stood silently in a corner, watching the proceedings.

Eventually, D-asshole made his way over to her, leering obnoxiously. "Oh, this is going to be good," Laura murmured, interrupting the conversation. Everyone turned to where he stood in front of Nat, who coolly looked up at him.

"You're just leaning against a corner this whole time; you some kinda hooker?" he slurred. Laura covered her mouth with her hand.

A moment later and D-asshole was flat on his back, unmoving. Natasha casually stepped over him and went to go refill her drink.

"All hail the Queen of Kung-Fu!" Laura shouted, clapping her hands. Everyone else cheered and Nat allowed a small smirk to cross her face before steeling it back into bad-ass mode. D-asshole was dumped on the couch and forgotten.

Laura caught Natasha in the kitchen as the party's life resumed. "Seriously, Nat," she murmured lowly. "Thanks for that."

She shrugged. "You're welcome."

Laura looked at her and winked. "You can borrow one of my dresses anytime."

A look of distaste flashed across the redhead's face. "I'd rather not." Laura laughed.

She did manage to get Natasha into at least a skirt for the wedding.

* * *

The actual wedding was a small thing that took place in a, quote "easily securable" church. Clint seemed mildly paranoid that some bad guy would burst in and crash the wedding, and Laura was convinced that most of the guests were armed SHIELD agents (and only the trustworthy ones). Fortunately, the worst thing that happened was Laura's mother showing up at the last minute in a white suit and cigarette harping about being the mother of the damn bride. The irascible lady made her own way down the aisle and sat in a pew still smoking her cigarette.

It was the happiest day of Laura's life.

Nat was the only armed bridesmaid, and kept a sharp eye on Lila (who just looked more excited to be the maid of honor than anything). Laura didn't recognize most of the groomsmen, but spotted Phil Coulson as best man. Beyond that, her attention was focused solely on Clint.

It was a short, sweet ceremony, and a quick reception. It went smoothly, aside from Laura's mother suddenly announcing "I don't believe in monogamy, so what the hell am I doing here?" before walking out. Laura didn't care. She was starting a new chapter in her life.

They honeymooned in a little cabin in the Midwest, and it was so peaceful she wished it could last forever.

* * *

She deduced that Clint pretty much lived in SHIELD facilities, so they agreed to just move into her apartment. Laura continued to teach at the high school. Clint continued to work for SHIELD. They kept that routine for four years.

The changes started coming when Laura figured out she was pregnant.

Clint was ecstatic. They both started making preparations around the apartment for a baby. It was too soon to tell if it was a boy or girl yet. They didn't care which it would be.

One night, however, a sound awoke Laura. She shifted in their bed the same time Clint sat bolt upright, a gun at the ready. Still sleepy, she frowned at him. _Why not the bow and arrow?_

A sound came again from the apartment.

Clint motioned her to stay quiet as he silently slid out of bed and to the bedroom door. She watched him ease it open and look into the main room. Heart pounding, she realized this was the first time she'd ever really seen Clint in 'spy mode'.

It was oddly relaxing.

He slipped into the main room. A moment later there were a few grunts and thuds. Then a dragging sound. The front door opened and closed. A few moments later and he returned to the bedroom.

"What was it?" she asked.

"Burglar," he answered. "Left him outside in the hall for the police to pick up." He started to crawl back into bed.

"Don't we need to be there for the police to take our statements?" she prodded him.

He sighed and opened his eyes. "Yeah. We do."

They had hot cocoa on the couch as they waited for the cops to come.

...

Afterwards, Clint was tense. He repaired the broken window easily enough, but he remained restless in the apartment. If Laura didn't know better, she would say that the incident shook him up.

She finally cornered him and he admitted that he didn't like how exposed they were. "This time it was just a burglar," he said. "But what if it's someone more dangerous next time? I have enemies, Laura, skilled ones, too. What if they come while I'm gone?"

"You've taught me self-defense," she pointed out reassuringly.

His face softened. "I know, and I trust you." He took her hands. "But what about the baby? Soon he'll be here, and I don't want to risk-" he struggled with his words.

"Okay," Laura said. "We'll move." His shoulders dropped in relief. " _After_ the baby gets here," she clarified. She was much too pregnant to go around packing and lifting boxes.

He grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

 _I should be happier than this_ , she thought to herself. _I should be more joyful._

Cooper Lucas Barton was born and was a gurgling, happy baby. Clint, for all of his occupational requirements, slid into fatherhood surprisingly easily. He fed and played with the baby, and was even a husband who changed diapers. Laura was glad for that, but wondered why she didn't feel much more than that.

 _I have a wonderful husband and a healthy baby- I should be ecstatic right now._

She didn't feel that way.

She caught herself staring out the window more and more. They were still in the apartment. The move was put on hold for a couple months so that Cooper could grow up some and basically _not_ be a newborn as they moved objects all over the place. The kid didn't seem to mind. He just enjoyed kicking his legs into the air and grasping at the rattle attached over his crib. Laura smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

Once she was out on the balcony for a long time. She wasn't doing anything. Finally, she realized that Cooper was crying. Clint was training at the SHIELD range for the day. Panic encased her when she realized she had no idea how long Cooper had been crying.

She ran back and tended to him, robotically changing his diaper and tucking him in.

Then she went back to the balcony.

 _What kind of a mother am I? I should care more than this_.

But she didn't.

* * *

It was the first time Clint _proved_ to her, without a doubt, that she came first.

"You what?" she repeated, hardly believing it.

"I turned down the mission," he said again. "It was a bad time for them to recommend it, anyway. My wife just had a baby, after all. Phil wasn't happy, arguing 'it's been two months' but he talked to Fury and we're good. I can be here, solidly, for sure, no surprises, for the next month and a half."

No, this couldn't be happening. She didn't want to do this to him. "How could you?" she whispered. "I can't hold you back, Clint. They _need_ you at SHIELD, you're the best, I can't- I can't be the one to sabotage your career…" she started shaking with unshed tears.

Clint gripped her shoulders. "Laura," he said sternly. "I _want_ to be here."

This was too much. She burst into tears- happy, sad- and sobbed into his shoulder.

Two days later, he gently took her to a doctor and she was diagnosed with postpartum depression.

* * *

They finally moved. Clint pulled some strings and they bought the cabin where they honeymooned. It was a lot quieter than the city. For better or for worse it reminded Laura of home.

It was pretty remote, and Laura transferred her teaching to online. She taught a variety of foreign language classes, and a geography class. She also found more time to paint again, which relaxed her and made her happy.

Clint eventually worked on turning the cabin into a mini-farm. It was just enough to be self-sufficient "should the apocalypse happen at any time". She swatted at him for being paranoid, but helped him build the barn none the same.

The farm brought back another aspect she didn't know she had missed: physical work. Laura liked being busy and enjoyed the labor the house's upkeep (and child) required. She enjoyed the fresh air from on top of their tractor as she kept the field plowed.

And she enjoyed the challenges a two-year-old and infinitely curious Cooper brought.

Her depression subsided with the positive change, and she could tell she was back to being spunky, surprising, busy Laura. She hadn't felt this good in years.

Apparently neither had Clint, and they both saw their happiness personified through another baby.

...

Clint was gone again when the phone rang. Very few people had the new number, so Laura was cautious when she picked it up. It did not bear good news.

She kept up a late-night vigil until Clint came home. She took note of his sling and mentally told herself to check up on it. Outwardly, she didn't move.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She sighed softly. "Lila's dead," she answered. "There was a car accident."

He didn't say anything, but wrapped her up in his arms and guided her upstairs.

Later, deep in the quiet night, she found herself murmuring. "I want to name our baby girl after her."

There was a comforting arm around her. "Whatever you say, Laura," he agreed.

* * *

'Auntie Nat' finally got to meet the kids in person.

Laura personally didn't quite know why the Black Widow was in the neighborhood, but she was pleased to see her all the same. Whether she knew it or not, Nat's presence helped her out of another bout of Baby Blues.

"And this is Cooper, oh, he's getting so big!" Laura gushed, like any other mother. Cooper just _adored_ Nat and thought she was the coolest thing ever- especially when she beat Dad at arm wrestling (though Clint still maintained she cheated with pressure points). Natasha was engaging enough to satisfy a three-year-old, yet aloof enough to remain 'awesome'.

"And the newest member of the family is Lila Rose Barton," Laura introduced, rocking the tiny baby.

Nat froze, and looked up at Clint. "Lila _Rose_?" she said.

"Ah," Clint shifted sheepishly. "I might have forgotten to mention a certain aunt's wishes on the subject of… names."

"Can we change it?" Laura asked. Natasha looked like she was going to gut Clint alive.

"The birth certificate's already been confirmed." He spread his hands.

"That's okay," Nat amended smoothly. "You can just name the next one 'Natasha'."

Clint spluttered. "Next one? What makes you think there's going to be a next one?"

Nat shared her smug, all-knowing grin with Laura, who returned it. Denying to answer, she turned to see what toy Cooper was showing her now.

* * *

It was a new routine. Clint was still called away on missions for SHIELD. Laura taught her online classes, painted, worked the farm, raised her kids, and eventually taught them, too (a scare in which Cooper nearly gave away government secrets made the family realize that homeschooling was the best way to go). She loved remaining busy. She loved the peaceful atmosphere. She loved the independence she somehow still had.

Laura watched the news avidly, and then would confer with Clint on what the facts were whenever he got back. They had a game on 'what was right and what was covered up'. She was getting pretty good at it.

The world rocked when Tony Stark revealed himself to be Iron Man. A couple years later she would get a call from Nat complaining about how egotistical the man was. The world rocked again when something huge and green rampaged through Harlem. Clint had actually seen that news report with her, on the couch. Not long after that he was called away to New Mexico.

But the world got its biggest shakedown when aliens attacked New York. Laura watched the proceedings seriously, and even did something she'd never done before.

She called Clint.

He was out in the field and no doubt in the thick of it, but she called him anyway. In some ways she was relieved to get his voicemail. In others, it just worried her more.

A few days later he returned her call. He sounded shaken. Said he would be home soon. The next day she walked downstairs in the morning to find him sitting on the couch, staring at the wall.

She got Nat to open up about Loki and the scepter. And Coulson's death. No wonder his nightmares were worse.

He moved around in a daze, often going to the barn and shooting arrow after arrow at the targets. It broke Laura's heart.

So she drew Cooper and Lila close and whispered "Go surprise Daddy in the barn. If you can tackle him to the ground, I'll make a cake."

The kids shot to the barn. Laura smiled, and started making the cake anyway.

When the three finally came back to the house, Clint was smiling and laughing as the screaming, giggling children ran circles around him and squirmed out of his holds. He met Laura's eyes as they entered the kitchen and settle down. "Thank you," he said, low enough for just her to hear.

She hugged him. "We're going to be okay."

* * *

He talked over the decision to join the Avengers extensively with her. She was very pleased he shared it so openly. SHIELD operated on a 'top secret, classified, above-your-security-clearance' level such that he could rarely speak of what he was doing. Laura worried for him, but wasn't stupid. She understood it was necessary.

Still, with the Avengers right there in the open, it was certainly refreshing.

"I think you should go," she said. He stopped what he was doing and looked at her.

"They need you." She wasn't blind. Did she want her all-too human ( _mortal_ ) husband hanging around with a bunch of self-made superheroes? They had Tony Stark in his super-suit. They had a man who morphed into an unstoppable, raging Hulk. They had an enhanced superhuman (super _soldier_ ). They had a god-like being. They had Natasha's lithe skill.

Laura could always see the big picture. It was why she painted. They needed Clint's humanity.

"Are you sure?" he broached cautiously. He still wasn't sure what he could actually offer the team.

She smiled, and nodded. "I'm sure." She straightened and sighed. "Besides, somebody's going to have to stop Nat from killing them all."

He grinned and chuckled. "Yeah. I suppose there's that."

They made plans for his shift in jobs. He might be away for longer stretches, because it was never certain when the Avengers would be needed, and so he would essentially be 'on call'. On the upside, he could actually call home. He packed two bags for Stark's Avengers Tower.

Or whatever it was called.

This was good for him. It was a team; he could start trusting more people. And by George, she fully supported that.

* * *

Laura walked down the stairs and was surprised to see Natasha sitting on the couch. "Nat?" she questioned. "Everything okay?"

Natasha turned to her and _fumed._ Laura had rarely seen such emotion displayed from her before.

" _Men_ ," she snapped. She uttered no further words.

Laura nodded. It'd been about six months since the Avengers Initiative was enacted. She could imagine getting fed up living with Stark, Banner, and the others.

She set about preparing breakfast, accepting Natasha's presence like it was any other day. As they cleaned the dishes and sent Cooper and Lila frolicking outside, the phone rang.

Only Nat, Fury, and Clint had that number.

Laura picked it up. "Hello?"

" _Hi, honey,_ " came Clint's voice. " _Um, is 'Tasha with you? The guys are kind of freaking out here._ "

Nat rolled her eyes at Laura's glance and grabbed the phone. "Barton, listen up, I think that-"

Laura cringed, aware that the conversation would turn hostile and unproductive. Nat needed a break. She was going assure that.

Before Nat could say anything else, Laura grabbed the phone. "Nat can't be with you guys right now, she's pulled her vagina!"

Dead silence on the other end.

"Okay, bye, sweetie, I love you too!" she chirped sweetly into the void. She hung up the phone and sent a sly, satisfied grin at Natasha.

"Stay as long as you need to."

...

Barton walked back into the main room, a slightly freaked look on his face.

"Any word on our missing Mata Hari?" Stark called from the couch.

Clint stopped. "Uhhhh, she's... yeah. Don't ask." He walked away with a horrified/nauseous look on his face, and for once, Stark did the smart thing and took his advice.

* * *

Clint was home early.

Clint was _never_ home early.

And he was tense.

"Clint, is everything alright?" She trailed after him as he moved from room to room, double checking computers, the phone line, and the windows for good measure. "Are you okay?" She knew he never let anyone do something like _follow_ him.

He finished his obsessive security walk of the house and then kissed her hard. She frowned and pulled away. "Clint, you're really worrying me, now," she warned him.

"Sorry, ma'am," he apologized. He was still tense.

"What happened?" she coaxed gently.

His shoulders stiffened. "HYDRA."

She… was somewhat familiar with the rival organization. "And?"

"It was all over SHIELD. The entire time."

Her face paled. "And?"

He sighed. "The infiltration went all the way to the top- so Steve and Nat flushed out the other moles by releasing everyone's file. _Everyone's_."

Laura stilled. "It's all just, out in the public?" she whispered.

"On the Internet, in the news… hell, it's a mess." He dragged a hand across his face.

"And SHIELD?" she pressed.

"Disbanded, for the time being. Torn apart." He dropped his quiver at last. "Nat might need to stay here a few days. Or weeks."

She nodded, fully aware of the massive implications that were rippling through the outside world. "Are we, are we expecting anyone else?"

"No one else knows about this place," he said sharply, and she felt her knees weaken in relief. Clint's paranoia had paid off- they stayed out of the files, and out of the fallout. He never breathed a word of her or kids outside of the house- heck, they had their wedding rings framed above the fire place (because she was not going to have him swallow that like all their pictures; learned from a sword-swallower or no).

And now- with a shock, Laura realized that their home was one of the few safe-houses left.

And still, Clint worried.

"I just have to make _sure_ ," he muttered, still pacing around the house. She didn't stop him as he walked outside and patrolled the outer regions of their land.

It wasn't even dawn.

...

Nat did show up at their place, and stayed for the longest time yet- two weeks. She informed them that Fury was still alive, and reassured them that he was the only other person who knew about their house. They were it.

It didn't stop Clint's patrolling for another month.

They waited for the media frenzy to die down.

And late at night, Laura looked at the laptop. It was so tempting. It was right out on the Internet.

She could actually _know…_

The laptop sat on the table in front of her, like the one ring of power. She stared at it. Such a simple search…

His file was somewhere out there.

She let out a shuddering sigh, reached out a hand, and closed the laptop.

She didn't see Natasha watching her from the shadows.

* * *

The world died down, and the Avengers carefully started returning to the tower. SHIELD was trying to regroup, but it would be years, and it would never be the same. Laura reflected that it was fortunate that Clint was an Avenger- they had his secure bank holdings to get them through the shift, but it was still reassuring that he had a second job.

Laura actually paused and laughed out loud, startling a barn cat. Her husband, the assassin, lost his job at the government agency, but that was okay because he still had his second one as an avenging superhero.

How was this her life? When did _that_ happen?

Laura chuckled at how grand her plans had seemed when she was in college. She was going to be a college professor, and maybe win an award for painting. Well, she was still painting, and still teaching, but she was also raising two beautiful children, working a farm in the sunshine, and had a loving, loyal husband, who gave her her independence.

Well, she mused to herself, rubbing her belly. A slight correction would have to be made to the _two_ children part.

* * *

"Honey? I'm home."

It was the first time he'd ever brought the team with him.

She'd seen the footage from South Africa. She knew it was bad. But it was worse when she saw Nat's haunted eyes and the scarred looks of team.

Laura was a smart host. She asked no questions, and began making room to fit the superheroes in their humble house. Thor left early on, which was a minor relief, as it cut down the numbers.

Which went up again when Fury showed up.

Juggling Tony Stark, Captain America, Fury, Banner, the kids, and everyone else was a fun challenge. Laura noticed the silent communication between Banner and Nat right away, and was excited that the femme fatale was finally opening up.

Of course, she had to break the news about 'Natasha's' gender change.

Nathaniel wasn't too far off, was it?

They saved the world once again, yet Clint returned home morose. He stopped in front of Laura, and gently placed his hands on her belly.

"His middle name's Pietro," he said quietly, and that was all of the matter.

* * *

Laura never thought she'd have it all.

Here she was, in her newly completed workplace, watching the sun stream through the open window onto her easel. Her laptop for work was on the desk behind her, along with her other textbooks and papers. Her paints were on this end of the room, though. It was quiet and warm outside. Clint was in the barn, teaching Cooper and Lila how to shoot. Nathaniel was sleeping in his crib- and she felt no depression or blues at all this time.

Here she was, average Laura, who had only wanted to break out of her home. Now she was a mother of three, a wife of a spy/assassin, and living in a comfortable house in the country. She taught her favorite subjects the way she wanted, and still painted in her free time (and a few actually made their way into some shows, all submitted anonymously, of course).

She stayed busy, between being a mom, a teacher, a farmer, and a wife, and she was fine with that. She still had her independence; a gift from Clint's job. They were apart for long periods of time, so that neither grated on the other's nerves, and the saying was true: absence makes the heart grow fonder. Her husband was intelligent enough to not pressure her or order her around, and she was smart enough to not cling to him or make a big deal out of small, uncontrollable problems.

They _worked._

Come to think of it, Laura mused, she was right all those years ago. She would never be tied down.

And she wasn't.

Hawks were born free.

* * *

 **There it is! Hope you liked it! Let me know in the comments! :)**


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